Speshul Alucard
by Amry
Summary: After an unfortunate accident, Alucard is regressing... severely. One moment he'll be normal, the next he'll be a two year old, albeit a two year old with superhuman strength and access to heavy duty guns. How does Integra cope? CHAPTER 3 IS UP!
1. Syrup, Anderson, and Numa Numa

THUD.

"Alucard?"

WHUMP.

"Alucard? What are you doing?" Integra poked her head into the room. "What on earth's wrong with you?"

THWACK. Alucard ran into the wall – for the eighth consecutive time. THUMP. The ninth. He was completely engrossed in his idiotic task. His face screwed up in concentration every time he hurled himself at the wall, and changed to an expression of increasing annoyance every time he bounced back, over and over again.

"Oh, God… he's doing it again." Integra strode into the room and took Alucard's arm firmly. "Hey! Alucard! What have I said about running into the walls? You're going to break something."

Alucard turned, distracted, just as he connected with the wall. As a result, he lost his balance and fell, dealing his elbow a nasty blow against the floor. He stared at the wound for a moment and glared up at Integra, looking indignant. "I fell down!" he pointed out.

"Yes, Alucard, I see that. May I ask why exactly you were running into the wall? Have you been at the red wine again?"

"No…" Alucard looked confused. He frowned at his elbow. "I wanted to walk through the wall. And… it was being bad." He sniffled. "Stupid wall!" Suddenly angry, he punched it. "Oooow!" Now he was nursing his sore knuckles as well as his elbow, tears of pain filling his eyes. "Stupid – stupid – stupid – _wall_… OOOOOW!" For every "stupid" he hit the offending wall again, not seeming to realize when his fist went right through it until the pain registered a moment later. "Oooow! Integra, the stupid wall gave me a boo-boo." He held up the injury for her inspection.

Integra gave him her finest mind-numbing glare. Alucard had been acting very… oddly lately. Some weeks ago a stray silver bullet had gotten him in the head and he hadn't been the same since. He'd forgotten how to phase through walls, for one thing. And he would sometimes go into strange ecstatic bouncing fits - most unlike him. The only thing that prevented the head of the renowned Hellsing Organization seeking medical help was the fact that much of the time he would look and act perfectly normally. It was the times he acted like a two-year-old that rather unnerved her. Rather odd, considering he was centuries old.

"Integra – aren't you going to kiss it?" She was brought back to the present by the sight of Alucard's bruised hand in her face.

Her normal reply might have been something along the lines of, "I would not kiss your hand for the death of every Iscariot member, past, present, and future." But for fear of inciting one of his screaming fits, she subdued herself as much as she reasonably could. "Er… no. I really don't think it needs kissing." She watched his reaction apprehensively. If he started wailing like he sometimes did… but no, he looked morose, not hysterical. Thank God.

Seemingly recovered, Alucard stood up. "I'm okay now, Integra. I'm hungry. I'll go get something to eat."

"All right. Walter's off today, but the fridge is full. Help yourself." With a cheerful grin, Alucard toddled off toward the kitchen, and Integra went to take a nap. Alucard-maintenance was even more exhausting nowadays than it had been before – and that was saying something.

Alucard opened the refrigerator and peered at the vials of blood set in neat rows. He selected one, uncorked it, and gulped it down.

"_Blargh_!" he gagged at the bitter, salty taste. The vial slipped from his hand and shattered on the tiles. It was disgusting! Had it gone bad somehow? He poked at his stomach, wondering if it was possible to regenerate from a stomachache.

Perhaps there was something else in the fridge that could make him feel better. He opened the door again.

Blood… blood… yet more blood… bread? Yuck. Peas? Got speared on his fangs. Apples? Hm. They were fun to carve faces into and good with peanut butter (his mind gave a happy little swirl at the thought of peanut butter), but not much in the way of food content. What could a blood-sick vampire have for a snack?

Then…

He saw it.

Strawberry syrup.

Oh sweet, red goodness.

He snatched the pink bottle and upended it straight into his mouth, savoring the gooey-sweet taste. This was so much better than blood! So sublime, so beautiful! The entire twelve-ounce bottle was gone in minutes. It made him… happy!

"INTEEEEEEGRAAAA! IntegraIntegraIntegra!"

"Ugh…" Integra rolled over, blinking blearily. "Ow…" She squeezed her eyes shut against the dim light for a moment and opened them – onto Alucard's maniacally grinning face, not six inches in front of her. "Bwah! Alucard, what are you doing?" she sat up quickly, pulling the covers over her front. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong? I'm HAPPY! It's a beautifulbeautifulbeautiful day! See?" Alucard flung the curtains open in one swift motion, bringing a flood of sunlight into the room. The odd thing was, it didn't seem to bother him in the least.

Not so for Integra. When she saw the mercenaries' laughing faces in the yard on the other side of the window, she let out a bloodcurdling shriek and dove behind the bed, covering herself with the blankets as much as possible. "Alucard, you dirty word even dirtier word, I'll filthy word your vulgar word if you don't unmentionable word close the word you could get arrested for curtains right BLEEEEP now! Half the censored neighborhood could be watching!"

Alucard cocked his head, confused. It was an odd picture, to be sure – the wide shadowy hat and obligatory red trench coat accompanied by a bemused expression rather than the infuriating smirk she knew so well. It made Integra even angrier than she had previously been, especially when he said, "Why's that so bad? I'm sure they're enjoying the view."

"AAAAAAAARGH!" She leapt up, hugging the covers to her furiously, and shut the curtains with one swift motion. Alucard wilted. "Get out! Now! I won't have you invading my privacy any more than you already do! Now OUT!" With a sigh, the nosferatu slouched out, giving her a sullen look from the doorway. The second he was gone she slammed and locked the door behind him.

Safe in the confines of her room, she dressed in her usual green suit and brushed out her long, blond hair. Privacy was one of the few things left that she could force her staff to allow her – if it was violated she became violent. An Alucard-free bedroom was one thing she insisted upon.

Ten minutes later, she emerged groomed and refreshed, or as refreshed as it was possible to be in her line of work. The hall was free of insane vampires and other nuisances for once, and she set off to her office to begin the day's paperwork.

She was only halfway down the hall when Seras came dashing up to her, the Hallconnen cannon dragging behind her, a silver bayonet through her left leg. "Sir Integra," she panted, "I was – downstairs – I was getting – something for the kitchen – _Anderson _is in – in the basement!"

"The _basement_? How in God's name did he get into the basement?"

The look Seras gave her told her that this was very much beside the point.

"Right… well… where's Alucard?"

At that moment, the vampire emerged from the wall directly behind her, his customary smirk in place. For some reason, this was very reassuring. "I'll go down there," he said, and his voice was as resonant and mocking as always. "It's been a while since I beat the life out of a few Catholic maniacs."

These words were so wonderful after days of idiocy it made Integra want to cry with happiness. "Yes, Alucard, go kill Anderson. And Seras… kindly get that bayonet out of your leg, you're dripping all over the floor."

Ignoring the squeaks of pain emanating from Seras, she watched as Alucard strolled down the hall. He sank into the floor with every step until only his hat protruded, then nothing. He even remembered to leave a peal of disembodied laughter behind, just like he used to. Integra allowed herself to feel optimistic. Perhaps this would go well.

Alucard made it all the way to the basement stairs before his demeanor cracked. Just as he set his foot on the top step, his smirk faded to vacant happiness. His stride became more of a prance. And the thought came into his head that it would be very fun to run down the spiraling stairs as fast as he could. He proceeded to do so.

Six steps down he lost his balance.

Anderson first heard a steady THUDTHUDTHUDTHUDTHUDTHUDTHUD THUD. Then he heard a steady "OW-OW-OW-OW-OW-OW-OW-OW!" Then he saw Alucard, hopelessly entangled in his red trench coat, rolling down the stairs, landing in a different painful position on each one. With a final THUD, he landed on the cold basement floor.

The priest muttered a prayer for strength and raised a bayonet, though he didn't cast it yet. This was obviously some sort of trick. What were the stupid Protestants pulling? He watched the red shape on the floor for some sign of movement.

"Hee hee… that was fun…" Alucard said and sat up.

A pair of sunglasses and a wide red hat bounced down the stairs and landed beside him. He picked them up and put them on. The sunglasses were missing a lens and the hat was crumpled, but he didn't seem to mind. He glanced up. The eye visible behind the missing lens blinked in surprise.

"Oh! Anderson!" He hastily scrambled to his feet. Anderson reflected that the words "Alucard" and "scramble" had never crossed his mind in the same sentence before. "I have to fight you 'cause Integra said so."

Here was what he had been waiting for. He grinned maniacally and raised his bayonets. "Then, in thae name o' God the most holy, prepare tae die, vampi'e!"

"Yay!" Alucard sang. He began jumping up and down happily. "Pie! Can it be rhubarb pie?"

Anderson blinked.

"Or, or we can play airplanes!" Taken with this new idea, Alucard spread his arms out and ran around in circles, making propeller noises.

The bayonets were getting heavy, crossed as they were before his face, so he lowered his arms. He was getting severely pissed at this point. "Have ye gone retarded or somethin'?" he snapped. "Ah came doon here tae fight ye!"

"I'm not retarded! Airplanes can't be retarded!" Still making his propeller noises, Alucard began jumping up and down again, shouting, "Turbulence! Turbulence!"

"Ach, stupid vampi'e…" Anderson muttered angrily. "Ah won't fight ye when ye're acting like one o' mah children…" Then an idea came to him. It worked with the orphanage kids – might it not work with a regressing vampire?

"Alucard," he said in his best "negotiating with a little kid" voice. "Let's play ae game."

"Yay! I like games!" the vampire declared, leaving off his airplane-ness to stare at the priest expectantly.

"Guid. It's called Hide-and-Go-Seek. Ah'll close mah eyes an' count tae ten, and ye'll go hide. Then, I'll come an' find ye. Sound guid?"

"I love Hide-and-Go-seek!" And without further ado, Alucard sprinted back up the stairs, calling over his shoulder, "No peeking!"

The second Alucard was out of sight, Anderson disappeared in a flurry of Bible pages. The last thing that could be heard as he vanished were several snorts of barely concealed laughter.

Halfway up the stairs, Alucard forgot what he had ascended them for to begin with. This fact, however, did not trouble him in the least. He merely continued up, trusting that it would come to him eventually. He emerged from the stairwell rather dizzy from all the circling, yet somehow managed to find his way back to the hall.

Seras was gone, apparently off cleaning herself up to judge by the trail of blood leading to the bathroom. Integra was pacing. The second she heard Alucard's footsteps she whirled to face him.

"Is he gone?" she asked. Then she realized that he had his "regressive" look on again and had not a single bloodstain on his clothes. Her stomach plummeted – had he forgotten what he had been assigned to do and left an insane Catholic priest hanging about in the basement waiting to be attacked? Or worse yet, was said insane Catholic priest in the house? Panic overran her, but she waited for Alucard's answer before allowing herself to succumb to nervous breakdown.

Alucard grinned at her. "Is who gone?" He thought for a moment. "Oh! Yes, the man in the basement is gone." He didn't actually remember the man in the basement leaving, but the fact that he wasn't there at that moment was good enough for Alucard.

Integra paced her way to the bathroom door and banged on it. "Seras!"

A muffled voice replied, "Yes, Sir?"

"When you're done in there, kindly check the basement and make sure that Anderson is gone."

Seras' voice was extremely hesitant. "Well… I'd love to, but you see, it'll take me hours to get this bloody ring out of the bathtub… literally…"

"Leave the bathtub till later. Alucard says he's gone, but somehow I don't believe him."

There was silence. Then the door opened and a fully regenerated Seras stepped out. The floor and walls of the bathroom were stained a dull brown in places, and the shower curtain was ruined beyond repair. Seras hastily closed the door and edged around Integra.

"Well!" she said with a certain lack of genuine enthusiasm. "I'm off to find Anderson, then." She lifted the Hallconnen from where it had been leaning against the wall and headed down to the basement.

After her footsteps had receded, there was silence. Alucard was bouncing on the balls of his feet and humming contentedly.

If there was one thing that Integra couldn't stand, it was humming. "If you can't sing, don't do it," she snapped. "What are you humming, anyway?"

"My favorite song!" Alucard threw his head back and began bellowing, "Vrei sa pleci dar, numa numa iei! Numa numa iei! Numa numa numa iei! Chipul tau si, dragostea din tei! Mea min tesc, drea ochii tei!"

Integra suddenly found that her right eye was twitching uncontrollably. Her hand was sliding toward the pistol concealed beneath her jacket… she was biting her cigar so hard, it broke in two and fell to the carpet, where it ignited the hall floor… and she did not care. No, as long as she got a few good shots to Alucard's head, she did not care about the consequences. She raised the gun, a satisfied smirk on her face.

Seras emerged from the stairwell and quickly took in what was going on. Her jaw dropped and she flung the Hallconnen down. "Sir Integra!" she cried. "What are you doing?"

"Shut up, Seras," Integra growled through clenched teeth. She didn't seem to notice the small fire steadily growing between her feet. "I have been waiting to do this for a long time… and don't you try to stop me!"


	2. Fire in the Manor

EEP! I forgot the disclaimer!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Hellsing, "Dragostea Din Tei," or anything else. Really.

A Schroe appearance is forthcoming… Meh heh heh… he shall be here eventually. Perhaps not right away. But it is one of my Hellsing fics, so he will appear.

Thanks SO much to ChibiChrissi, and Wolf-chan my ghost reviewer! And all my other reviewers! You didn't know this when you reviewed, but all my reviewers get COOKIES! hands out chocolate chip cookies And, if you give constructive criticism, you get a big slice of Seras' homemade chocolate cake!

EeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEe

The flames at Integra's feet crackled. Seras hyperventilated. The gun's hammer made a sharp click. Alucard hummed.

"Allo… Salut… sunt eu, un haiduc!"

"SHUT UP!" Integra's face contorted with rage. She fired.

BANG! BANG!

And Alucard was bleeding.

Seras yelped as if she had been shot and half ran, half fell to Alucard's side. "Master," she whimpered. "Master, are you all right?"

Alucard looked puzzled. He raised his hand to his head, then brought it before his eyes and stared at the blood staining his glove. "In… Integra?" he cried, his voice breaking. "Wh - why?"

Integra was panting heavily. She felt more alive than she had in ten years. "Because!" she shouted, "You can't act your age! Which is what, a thousand?"

"Integra – Integra – Integra SHOT ME!" The nosferatu flung his head back and howled. Tears of blood streamed down his face and mingled with the blood pouring from beneath his hair. He made no attempt to regenerate, did not attack Integra, did nothing but scream, now and then pounding the floor with his fists.

"Sir!" Seras' face was even paler than usual. "He's having a temper tantrum! I'm sorry, but you really shouldn't have shot him – not in this condition…"

Integra had even less patience for kids than she normally did for Alucard. And when Alucard _was_ the kid, her already small snapping point became microscopic. She shoved the gun back into her jacket, marched up to Alucard, and began shaking him furiously, yelling in his face, "Shut up! Shut up right now! You're a nosferatu, not a child! Shut UP!"

The only effect this had on Alucard was that he opened his eyes in shock. Through a reddish, watery haze, he saw Integra's looming face, framed by the flames that were now engulfing the hall. He screamed even louder, launched himself up, and dashed off through the fire – where, Integra could not see. A moment later, she heard the ominous sound of the front door slamming.

The fire's crackling was the only sound. Seras seemed frozen on the floor, her hands shaking, her master's blood splashed across her face. Integra looked stricken.

"Oh my God," she rasped. She stared at the trail of blood that Alucard had left behind him.

"Sir… you shot him…" Seras' eyes were filled with tears. "You shot him!"

"Who cares? He had it coming. The terrible thing is _he's loose on London_!"

The Police Girl started to sob. "He doesn't know who he is! He doesn't know where to go or what to do! He'll be so lonely!"

"The Queen's going to _kill_ me!" The young Hellsing stared helplessly into the inferno that had become her hallway. "Has he got a gun?"

"He – he took the Jackal to the basement, right?"

Integra swore like a sailor and dove into the flames, emerging on the other side severely singed but otherwise relatively unhurt. Seras followed, lifting the explosive Hallconnen high over the fire. When her boss was in this condition, it was best to shut up and follow.

Once outside, Integra darted for her limousine and practically threw herself into the passenger's seat. "Walter's off," she muttered angrily. "Seras, can you drive?"

"Somewhat…"

"That'll do. Get us on the road, and hurry!"

Seras nodded and dropped the Hallconnen into the elongated back seat before sliding into the front seat and locating the keys. In moments they were off, roaring down the road toward London.

Integra rolled down the tinted window and stuck her head out, squinting against the setting sun, frantically searching the road ahead for a red-coated man bleeding from the head. Her blonde hair blew backward like a pennant in the wind as Seras accelerated to sixty, then to seventy.

"How fast can he run?" Integra panted, pulling her head back in. Her hair looked like a bird's nest piled on top of her head. "We should have caught up to him by now!"

Seras was leaning over the steering wheel, intent on the road ahead. "I don't know," she said. "Maybe he made a portal. He could be anywhere!"

"Then we have to think of where he might have gone. If you were a regressing vampire in the throes of a temper tantrum bleeding from the head, where would you be?"

Seras pondered for a moment. "At home in my coffin, regenerating?"

"Seras. Why would he be at home in his coffin when we know for a fact that he is _not_ there?"

"Sorry!" She concentrated on the road once more, but not before adding, "It being Alucard, I expect he's wandering around frightening the life out of passerby."

"To frighten passerby, there has to be passerby to frighten. Meaning he's in London!"

"Elementary, my dear Integra!" Seras cried.

"Shut up." And they sped the rest of the twenty miles to London in silence.

Alucard _was_ in fact wandering around frightening the life out of passerby. His eyes, only one visible under the broken sunglasses, were unfocused. Blood loss didn't bother him, but the sight of Satan Integra had terrified him into shock. His hat was squashed and terribly askew, and his hair was crusted with dried blood. Both his head wounds were still bleeding, and dried brown tracks were traced down his face from his eyes. By the time he had gone fifty paces from his portal, six people had called an ambulance. Three had called the prison. Four had called the mental institution.

"Stupid Integra," Alucard muttered. "Stupid stupid stupid Integra… she's so mean all the time… why is she so mean? Why did she shoot me?" He repeated this endlessly, barely sure of where he was going, sometimes accidentally phasing through telephone poles. He stumbled like a drunk, occasionally whacking into people who then moved away extremely quickly.

The ambulance found him as he crossed a busy intersection. The paramedics leapt out from the back and escorted him to the vehicle, talking in soothing voices. Alucard, surprisingly, went with them, clear evidence that he was even less himself than usual. As soon as he was inside on the stretcher, he fell into a coma-like slumber.

"Dear God," one paramedic whispered to the other. "What happened to him?"

"Dunno," the other replied, his eyes wide. "He looks like he's been shot in the head. Couldn't tell with that hat in the way, though…"

"He wasn't shot in the head, he'd be dead… he seems all right. Let's wait til we get back to hospital before we try to move him."

"Right."

The instant the ambulance careened into the hospital's emergency lot, the paramedics hurried the sleeping Alucard into the operating room. A surgeon hurried in and lifted the vampire's hat to inspect the damage. An anesthesiologist and a nurse closely followed him.

His eyes widened in shock as he probed the wound. "Two gunshot wounds to the head… look like they were made by a revolver. He's been bleeding from the eyes somehow, but they don't look damaged. Is he alive?"

Alucard snored loudly in reply.

"…Right. Let's begin the operation now." The anesthesiologist did her work quickly, and Alucard was out like a light.

The surgeon bent in with his scalpel and leaned over the twin bullet holes. "Let's get these bullets out of his head first – what the-?"

The patient's arm was melting. The red sleeve turned black and translucent. Wide red eyes appeared in the flesh and a faint growling noise could be heard.

"Is he having an allergic reaction?" the surgeon cried, turning to the anesthesiologist. Looking alarmed, she dashed to Alucard's side and inspected the arm.

It was normal. She glanced at the surgeon and asked with as much tact as she could muster, "Are you feeling… sober… today, sir?"

The surgeon glared at her. "Of course!" he snapped. "His arm was melting!"

"Best continue with the operation, sir."

Muttering angrily, the surgeon attacked with his scalpel again.

Alucard's head melted into his collar. Two bullets fell to the floor with a faint clinking noise. The nurse leaned over the surgeon's shoulder in surprise. "That was quick, sir."

The surgeon stared at the empty collar with horror. "His head," he gasped, "Where's his head?"

"Right there, sir," the nurse said, puzzled. Alucard's head, the eyes closed and the mouth hanging vacantly open, was back in its proper place. The blood flow had stopped. Except for the dried tracks under his hair, there was no sign that he had ever been bleeding.

With a cry of terror, the surgeon dashed from the room, bowling the anesthesiologist out of his way as he went. His screams could be heard receding down the hall toward the psychiatric ward.

Seras and Integra were caught in a traffic jam. A line of angrily honking cars stretched all the way through London, or so it seemed. Integra gripped the seat frantically, her eyes wild. "Seras! Park this thing!"

"I can't! We're in the middle of a highway! It'll be another fifteen minutes til I can get us to the side of the road."

"Then leave the limo." Integra opened the passenger side door and stepped out onto the highway.

"What'll I do with the Hallconnen?" Seras reluctantly opened her door, glancing at the rocket launcher in the back seat.

"Leave it! Come _on_!" Much to the puzzlement of the other drivers, the two singed women crossed the road and hurried off into downtown London.

"Now then…" Integra searched the surrounding street for some sign of a red coat and hat. "I think we ought to-" The wailing of a fire engine drowned her out as it tore down the street in the opposite direction from which they had come. Seras watched it go, trying to find a telltale plume of smoke.

"Look!" she exclaimed, pointing toward the horizon. "Must be a big fire…"

Integra looked very briefly. Then she looked again. Then she screamed and sprinted back toward the road. "The manor! The manor is burning!" She vaguely remembered dropping her cigar on the carpet right before shooting Alucard and diving through fire to get to the front door… how could she have forgotten that the hall was _burning_? In a fit of panic, she dove in front of an oncoming car. When it stopped, she rushed around to the side, booted the driver out, and sped away into the night.

Seras chose to pretend she didn't know Integra, and hurried off down the street to continue her search for her master.

Integra had only driven a car twice in her life, but she found the accelerator very quickly and was off like a demon. Eighty, ninety, ninety-five… the car she had stolen was coughing under the pressure, but she tore on with total disregard for traffic lights, crossing pedestrians, and other drivers. It was a miracle she didn't kill anyone.

At this velocity, she made it to the manor in less than five minutes. She quickly located the brake and came to a screeching halt in the driveway. Her heart racing like a drum solo, she ran toward the house. Or what was left of it.

Firefighters raced around the lawn with enormous hoses, trying desperately to quell the flames. As Integra watched, the windows burst with an almighty WHOOMPH, sending great bursts of fire arcing over the grass. She stared in abject horror as the two hundred-year-old manor burned before her.

A very scorched Captain Pip Bernadette stumbled to her, a look of vast relief on his face. "Sir Integra," he panted, "Thank goodness you're all right – we thought you were still inside. Ze house can't be saved, but no one was 'urt."

Integra didn't seem to have heard him. "My house," she croaked.

"Ze Wild Geese got everyone – ze maids, servants, and all zat – out when zey saw ze flames coming down ze stairs."

"My office..." She began to sway slightly. Firelight glinted off her glasses.

"What d' you think started it?"

Integra started as though she had been smacked. She whirled and grabbed Pip's collar, shaking him furiously. "MY CIGARS!" With a wild cry, she darted back toward the house, shoving firefighters out of the way and fighting against all efforts to restrain her. Finally, three firefighters dogpiled her before she could run into the inferno. One sat on her back; the others held her arms and legs. She battled them with strength not her own, screaming, "My cigars! Save my cigars!"

Pip watched this with a strange mixture of horror, confusion, and amusement. When it seemed they had his boss under control, he turned to give orders to his men. He had a feeling that when the authorities showed up, it would be best to have some semblance of organization.

Seras was growing steadily frantic. No one she'd asked had had any idea where a red-coated man bleeding from the head might be. Her strategy was to snatch at random people and ask, "Have you seen anyone who looks like he's been shot twice in the head, but you can't really tell 'cause his coat's red too?" She had received several "You're mad"s, several more "Stupid drunk"s, and far too many "Shut up"s. She was fast losing all hope of ever finding her master.

Suddenly, a very obvious thought occurred to her. If he were injured at Hellsing, no one would dream of calling an ambulance – but here in London, where people hadn't the foggiest idea that Hellsing existed, they would immediately call the hospital if they saw a man walking down the street bleeding from the head. She consulted a large map on a street corner and then hurried off to the hospital, praying she would find Alucard there.

Alucard woke in the recovery room back in his own, thousand-year mind. Naturally, he had no idea how he had ended up in London, much less in a hospital bed. He sat up. His thin hospital garment rustled, and he glared at it. Where were his clothes?

A thorough search of the room turned up nothing. He couldn't go back to Hellsing dressed like this; Integra would never let him hear the end of it. And Pip would certainly make sure all Britain _and _France knew that the famed nosferatu had been running about in a hospital gown. Alucard sat down on the bed and pondered his dilemma.

"What do you mean, I can't go see him?" Seras was trying desperately to negotiate with the receptionist, who was adamantly blocking all her demands.

"It is past visiting hours, miss. You will have to wait until tomorrow to see him."

"It's important! You have to let me by! Life and death!"

"I get that all the time, miss." The receptionist went back to typing.

Seras was at her wits' end. Desperate times called for desperate measures. She leaned over the desk, startling the receptionist into looking into her eyes. "Let – me – by." She ordered slowly, not breaking eye contact. "Now."

The receptionist blinked. "Go right ahead," she murmured. Seras smiled.

"Thank you." She darted up the stairs before the receptionist came to, glancing at a sign on the wall to confirm Alucard's floor before tearing up three flights and bursting into the deserted hall. She scanned the doors as she raced past them, but none gave her any clue as to where her master was. Finally, in utter desperation, she halted and bellowed, "ALUCARD!"

Alucard's head jerked up when he heard his fledgling's voice. This was a most fortuitous turn of events – he could shut her up quite easily if he needed to. He slid into her mind and answered, "Room 307."

"Master!" Seras quickly located and opened the door. Alucard was sitting on the bed in his hospital gown, looking quite normal. She chose to ignore the gown in her relief at having found him, adult and regenerated. "I've looked everywhere!"

"Did it ever occur to you to ask me telepathically?"

Seras was silent.

"Idiot Police Girl." He chuckled and stood. "I suppose we ought to return to the manor. I'll make the portal," he added gallantly.

"Master – the manor-"

"No, no, I insist. Come along." He opened a portal beside the bed and ushered her in, despite her attempts to explain to him the state of the manor. "Where shall we land where we won't be noticed? The basement, I suppose?"

"Master, you can't land in the basement-"

"Hm. The remnants of Anderson's visit must still be there. Very well then, Integra's office." If he could not make it to the manor in the gown unnoticed, then he would at least annoy Integra with it.

"No- not there!"

"Of course there. Move it." He shoved her in, stepped in behind her, and closed the portal.

Alucard's gown was completely incinerated the instant he stepped out of the portal. Seras' uniform fared slightly better, but still burned up enough to display many parts she'd rather have kept hidden. Alucard stared around in shock for a moment, then opened the portal again. "I think we ought to move this to the lawn," he said, and pulled Seras through again.

They emerged, by some stroke of luck, right beside Pip, who did not look particularly alarmed when they appeared out of nowhere. He took in the state of their clothing – or lack thereof – and their red faces and said, "Busy, were you?" Seras gave him a slightly softened glare. Alucard regenerated, clothes included, pretending to ignore them.

"Glad you're all right," she said to Pip, not quite as stiffly as she would have liked. Alucard pinched her arm. She elbowed him in the stomach.

Integra was under control again, though she had shed far more tears over her cigars than over her manor. With as much dignity as she could muster under the circumstances, she shook off the three concerned firemen and approached her subordinates.

"Well," she said, trying very hard not to look at Alucard. "No one's hurt. But the Queen'll have my head."

Everyone looked sympathetic but Alucard, who grinned maniacally and said, "I always knew your smoking would do us all in someday."

He knew enough to take off running immediately following this statement. The sound of Integra's enraged screams and Alucard's gut-bursting laughter were audible even over the crackling of the flames until the fire died down completely.


	3. Some Fun at the Palace

DISCLAIMER: Hellsing, "Dragostea Din Tei," and Monty Python aren't mine. I don't own anything. If you sue me, all you'll get is a buttload of lawyer's bills. Also: The opinions of the characters in this story are fictional and do not reflect the views of the author. Thank you.

Dragostea Din Tei is a song I heard sung by the Romanian band O-Zone. I really haven't the foggiest idea what it's about, as the translations I've read are rather hard to make out.

Wow… so many reviewers! (sobs with happiness) I'm so proud! Thank you so much! (distributes cookies to TrunksgirlBlaze27, Blue wings of bliss, Ridicully L, and ThePhantom'sSlave)

ThePhantom'sSlave: It is an honor to be reviewed so well by an author who succeeded in making my family worry about my sanity as I collapsed on the desk, howling with laughter, reading your story. I just noticed that my story involves Alucard acting stupid, and yours involves Integra acting stupid – is that why we like each other's so much?

Seras: Hm… (pokes cake) It's going a bit stale… is that a good thing?

EeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEe

Integra found herself unable to leave the ruins of the manor that night. After her wind had given out ("That smoking does no one any good," taunted Alucard), she had flopped down on the charred grass and lain there for a good six hours, unable to do anything but fume. Numerous attempts by her men to pull her up had resulted in heavy casualties.

Some people vent their feelings by drinking, some through art, others through speech – but Integra was different. When she was angry, she plotted. She considered how exuberant she would be if she were to _accidentally_ trip the seal when Alucard was in the dungeon on some false pretext… how joyful she would be if she could get him into a tutu and parade him before her men… the sweet cheerfulness the rest of her life would surely contain if she could somehow reciprocate for every moment Alucard had ever annoyed her, ever made an inappropriate advance, ever pestered her in her office… yes, if only she could pay her servant back for every premature wrinkle and gray hair his antics had created, her life would be perfect. She allowed her mind to spiral into blissful thoughts of humiliation and torture, forgetting for a few hours even her lack of an upright house.

Unfortunately, her delighted ruminations were cut short by the arrival of the very person she wished least to see. Besides Alucard.

"Sir Hellsing. _What_ are you doing on the ground? _Why_ are your men bleeding? And _why_ is the manor a heap of rubble?"

Integra knew she should get up and bow. However, she didn't feel like it. "Good morning, Majesty," she said, her eyes closed against the rising sun. "I'm on the ground because I'm plotting. My men are bleeding because I attacked them when they tried to stop me from plotting. And the manor is a heap of rubble because I had to go chase Alucard around London and I forgot the hall was on fire. Now go away, please, Majesty, I want to plot some more."

"Sir Hellsing, kindly get up. You're dirtying your suit."

"Can't get much dirtier than it is." Integra rolled over, using her arm as a pillow. She vaguely heard the Queen conversing with her men. The word "delirious" was discernible several times, but Integra didn't care. She was having too much fun plotting.

"Sir Hellsing." Integra ignored the Queen. "_Sir Hellsing_." Integra made a complaining "a-HEM" sound and covered her ears. "SIR HELLSING." Strong arms pulled her to her feet, and she accepted with sadness that she would have to save her plotting for later. For now, she shook off the Queen's bodyguards and gave a rather late bow.

Just then, Alucard relapsed. Suddenly he forgot all the events of the night. No one noticed – the Queen's reaction to the manor's obliteration was a bit more important to all assembled, particularly Integra. And the reaction was not a good one.

Her Majesty paced up and down the lawn in front of Pip, Integra, Alucard, and Seras (who had regenerated her clothing), most of who looked as though they were going to be sick. Integra had gone paler than Alucard, who seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he was about to be severely told off.

"Well, Sir Hellsing, you're certainly done it this time." Everyone present groaned inwardly; the Queen loved nothing more than to make wrongdoers stand witness to her extensive lectures. "I've overlooked a lot over the years. In the fifteen years you've been head of the Hellsing organization, London has been in mortal peril twice, first from Nazis, then from Catholics. Both times you half failed me – and half succeeded. But _this_ –" she pointed with a shaking finger at the charred beams standing stark against the sky which were the only remnants of the Hellsing manor, "_this_ is a failure through and through. There were millions of pounds' worth of antique furniture in there. The paperwork contained some of the most important records in British defense history."

"Not after Alucard got into the filing cabinet," Integra muttered, but her words were chopped down the instant they hit the air by a guillotine-like swipe from the Queen's hand.

"And besides that – by losing control of your pet, you completely broke my trust in you. No doubt there are several psychologists making a pretty penny off Alucard's appearance this evening."

"Integra shot me," Alucard piped up. Integra stared at him in horror – the blankness was back, that terrible regressive blankness! Thank God his hat hid his vacant smile – if the Queen didn't look too hard it might come off as a smirk. "Twice, in the head! But I'm _aaaaaaaaall_ better now!"

Integra tried her best to send him a message via hate-waves: _Alucard, shut up right now or you will be longing to be shot in the head compared to what I will do to you. _

He didn't receive the message. "I went to the hospital and a nice doctor made the bullets go away!" Integra trod on his foot. He yelped. The Queen stared.

"Is Alucard all right?"

The nosferatu opened his mouth to speak again, and Integra trod on his foot even harder. "He's fine, just in a bit of shock. His coffin burned." She covered up his whimpering by saying loudly, "Where will we stay during the rebuilding?"

"The palace." Her Majesty looked less than pleased with this arrangement, but said with what could have been passed as good grace, "There are extra rooms there for you, and your men can share the barracks with mine."

"You are too kind to us, Majesty," Integra said, bowing again. Seras and Pip followed suit. After a prod to the back of the head, Alucard bowed as well.

"Where is Walter?" The Queen asked, looking around. "I should think he'd be off organizing something."

"It was his day off," Integra explained through gritted teeth. With Walter there, the day might not have been such a fiasco. "First in five years. He'll be back tomorrow."

"Then we need not trouble ourselves about him until then." Her Majesty turned and retreated to her limousine. "I assume your own car is in working order. Transport will be sent along for your men shortly." The door slammed, and her chauffeur drove back toward London.

The instant her superior was gone, Integra turned to Alucard with murder in her eyes. Thankfully, Pip restrained her, saying in a soothing tone, "Now, now, Sir… eet will not 'elp matters if you kill Alucard before we have a chance to straighten zis mess out. We should go to ze palace, try to rebuild ze manor, and not get in any more trouble zen we're already in."

Integra took a deep breath, quelling her homicidal urges for the moment. "Yes, Captain Bernadette, quite right. Killing Alucard won't do a thing for us right now." Relieved at her temporary change of heart, Seras and Pip relaxed – until Integra finished her thought. "However, he should know that this respite is a very – _very_ – short one. The instant it is within my power to do so, he will suffer."

There was a silence. Ashes, blown by the wind, swirled by and caught themselves in Integra's hair. It gave her an even more fearsome look then usual, not at all hindered by the fact that she was filthy, singed, and bloody. All present cowered.

Integra basked in the cold silence for a moment. "Now then," she continued with the air of a very smug cat – no, a very smug _tiger_. "Captain Bernadette, you will remain here and make sure that all the men are taken to the palace. Please prevent rioting and widespread panic. And be sure you make very clear that just because the wine cellar may not have burned does _not_ give them any excuse to search it for possible survivors." Looking defeated, the captain saluted and hurried off. It appeared that the thought of the wine cellar had already entered the minds of several Wild Geese. "Seras, _Alucard_," she said and snapped, "You will accompany me in the limo. I think the captain has everything under control here."

"Right," Seras said. "The problem being… well, sir, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but the limo's not exactly here."

"Nonsense. Where else would it be?"

"Um… sitting in the middle of the highway in London. If it hasn't been towed already… sir."

"Then what did I drive to get here?"

"That." Seras pointed.

In the driveway, smoke seeping from under the hood, was a small, old-fashioned Volkswagen Beetle. Integra remembered hijacking it after a moment's thought. The knowledge made her want to cry. "You're telling me we haven't got another limo?"

Seras shook her head. "The garage burned too. I guess you arrived after the gasoline explosion…"

Integra wanted desperately to do something violent, but controlled herself again. _If this goes on much longer, I'm going to kill something, _she thought. _Ah well, that's what Alucard's for. _Dismissing her anger with an effort of will, she strode over to the car and lifted the hood, pretending that she had some idea of what she was doing. Seras took Alucard's hand and followed, dragging him behind. All three leaned over the steaming innards of the car, intent on finding out what was wrong.

"BOO!"

WHACK.

Integra sat on the ground, tears of pain welling in her eyes, a lump rising on top of her head. Alucard stood nearby, laughing hysterically. "Scared you, Integra!" he giggled, jumping up and down. "Wow, look, you dented the car." Indeed, there was a large dent in the bottom of the hood where Integra's head had struck it as she jumped.

Seras put her arm around her boss's shoulder. Though she appeared to be comforting her, the vampiress was in fact trying to prevent Alucard's untimely demise. The strength in her arm was all that was keeping Integra from leaping up and impaling Alucard with a piston. Or perhaps her own bare hands. "There, there, sir," she said, pressing down on Integra's shoulder harder. "It's not that bad… just a bump on the head…" Integra was now emitting feverish grunts as she struggled against Seras' arm. Best to change the subject, Seras decided. "Er, how are we going to fix the car?"

For the third time in an hour, Integra was forced to control her rage. She could feel it, though, somewhere near her stomach – a small gauge that was about to burst with the pressure of her hatred for Alucard. Making no attempt to keep the daggers from her glare, she stood painfully and bent over the car once more, this time keeping a wary eye on her servant. He, however, was humming that numa-numa song again.

"Er… Seras, what d'you suppose is wrong with it?" Integra saw only that the smoke was coming from somewhere in the back of the hood area. "Do you think it'll last thirty miles?"

"I dunno. I suppose so. I mean, it's not on fire, is it?"

"It's the only thing that isn't. Fine then, get in. You drive. Alucard!" Hearing his name, he toddled over and cocked his head, listening. "Get in the back seat. We're going to London."

"I went there earlier," he reminded her. "I could get there really fast if I made a portal."

"No." Integra's voice was so cold, Alucard was surprised that it didn't splinter on the ground. "Get in the back seat. _Now_." Even the thousand-year-old two-year-old was cowed. He slunk into the back seat and buckled his seat belt, not even bouncing on the springy cushion. Integra took her place in the passenger's seat, and Seras slid behind the wheel. "Now then. Off to London. Again."

The carburetor gave out ten minutes away from Buckingham Palace. A very disgruntled Integra, tailed by Seras and Alucard, were forced to battle their way through a mob of tourists and explain their plight to an incredulous official. Their only troubles were the stares, and the idiot who yelled after Alucard, "No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!" These people (particularly the idiot) were dutifully ignored.

Integra had not envisioned entering the palace like this. She had not envisioned being directed around to the tradesmen's entrance to convince the porter that, yes, she was Sir Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, and _yes_, she really did need to see the Queen, and _yes_, you idiot, those really _were_ two vampires behind her. It took all of thirty minutes to get herself, Seras, and Alucard into the palace unhindered. By this time, her eye was twitching again.

They were escorted to three small sub-level rooms far to the back of the palace. This proved to Integra just how deep the Queen's anger ran. As she bathed and dressed, she ran over various groveling techniques in her mind, wondering which best fit the situation. She had no idea how much time would elapse before the Queen summoned her, and until then, staying in her room and not bothering anyone seemed the wisest course of action. She was so exhausted after the rather horrific night that she did not even care what Alucard was doing. She collapsed on her bed and fell asleep immediately.

Alucard did not stay in his room. He decided immediately upon arrival that it would be his goal to explore every inch of the enormous building that Seras had called "his happy home for a good long time." That sounded like fun. And there had to be more than that short hallway and this tiny set of rooms. He opened a portal in the ceiling and ascended with a happy cry of "Wheeeeeeee!"

He found himself in a vast, echoing hallway. The soft sound of typewriters came from several rooms adjoining the hall, and a murmur of voices was barely discernible from behind closed doors. Otherwise, it was very grand and very quiet. The air was saturated with grandeur and majesty. It was for this reason that Alucard felt the need to sing very loudly.

"VREI SA PLECI DAR, NUMA NUMA IEI! NUMA NUMA IEI!" The echoes bellowed back at him, "…numa iei, numa iei, numa numa numa numa numa…"

People stuck their heads into the hallway and stared at the stranger. One of them sighed, dropped his paperwork, and hurried to the still singing Alucard, looking very annoyed.

"Look here, sir," the clerk said, speaking over Alucard's voice with an effort, "This isn't part of the guided tour. You'll have to return to your group."

Surprisingly, Alucard stopped singing. "Good morning!" he said. "This hallway echoes."

"Yes, that's why we generally like to keep it _quiet _here," he said as courteously as he could manage. "There is a meeting in one of the boardrooms down the hall, and we're all trying to get a bit of paperwork done." For someone a foot and a half shorter than the imposing stranger in the red coat, the man was very authoritative.

Alucard nodded as if in understanding. "That's like Integra. She always has lots of paperwork. She yells at me when I disturb her, but it's fun. Disturbing people doing paperwork is fun!" He broke out into song again. "SI TE ROG! IUBIREA MEA PRIMESTE FERICIREA!" The clerk winced and snatched at Alucard's arm. Snickers came from several offices.

"Sir, I must ask you to leave the premises now," he said firmly. "You're going to be arrested if you don't stop this unseemly behavior! You're in the palace!"

Alucard's eyes widened. "Really?"

The clerk concluded that Alucard was utterly mad. He wondered desperately what to do. Suppressed chortles came from several offices.

Alucard sighed. "People ask me to leave the premises all the time," he said. "I'll go explore somewhere else." He took two steps to the right, and before the shocked clerk could stop him, he slid through the wall and disappeared.

As he hung out of the ceiling in the adjacent room and fiddled with the crystals on a colossal chandelier (something he had always secretly longed to do), he heard a yelp, a thump, much laughter, and then the sound of someone being carried away. He wondered what the man had been so frightened of. He phased through walls at Hellsing all the time, and no one ever seemed to mind. "London people are pansies," he told the chandelier, and returned to fiddling with the crystals.

This occupation, however, though certainly not without its amusements, was not enough to hold Alucard's nonexistent attention span for long. His curiosity overcame his immediate desire to fiddle with chandelier crystals, and he landed in an undignified heap on the floor. Giggling, he sat up and brushed himself off. He was having a grand time exploring the palace, and could not wait to find another fun room to amuse himself in. He held out one hand, spun around a few times, and tottered through the wall his pointing finger indicated upon halting.

The new room contained clothes. Obviously, it was not open to the public; though the place had as much stiff-necked majesty as the rest of the place, it had a faintly bedroomy feel to it. It was lined by wardrobes of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Upon closer inspection, these were revealed to contain all manner of clothes and jewelry, none of which could have cost below a thousand pounds: Ballroom gowns, day dresses, evening dresses, and women's suits with matching necklaces and bracelets and rings and earrings, and shoes to go with every article for every occasion from Easter to bar mitzvahs.

Alucard partook of this splendor with wide eyes. Almost reverently, he reached out and brushed a silken skirt. These clothes were so pretty… what were they doing all locked up in here? It was almost sad, the way they were ignored. Someone really should be wearing them, he reflected.

The idea hit him like a speeding train of enlightenment. "Dress-up!" he cried jubilantly, and dove into the wardrobes.

…

Barry the guard was bored. His bearskin hat was slipping down over his eyes, his red tunic was becoming unbearably hot, and he wished nothing more than for something to pass the hours he would be standing here, immobile, while eager tourists on their visits to the palace snapped his picture until purple spots were swimming in front of his eyes…

Suddenly, he snapped straight as though someone had hit him on the behind. None other than the Queen, in one of her special occasion dresses, was stumbling down the hall toward him.

…Stumbling?

He stared at her from beneath the shield of his slipping hat, wondering when her hair had gotten so very dark… or when she had forgotten how to tie a sash… or when the ability to appear regal in heels had abandoned her. For a moment he was unsure of what to do. After a furious mental battle, he decided that, whether or not she was drunk, she was his queen, and her behavior did not make her any less a very important person. "Your Majesty," he said dutifully as she passed.

"Tee hee!" she replied sagely, and staggered past him.

As she proceeded down the hall, Barry the guard swore never to wish for something to pass the hours ever again.


End file.
